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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517547">The Maumbury Circle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarnerHedgehog/pseuds/WarnerHedgehog'>WarnerHedgehog</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Dorchester Name Four [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comedy, Gen, Gossip, Humor, Secret Society, Secrets</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:48:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23517547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarnerHedgehog/pseuds/WarnerHedgehog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of the inner machinations of a secretive women’s society. Sort of like a sinister WI. <br/>Tonight is one of their big meetings and it’s not going to run as smoothly as their leader thinks it will. Her little secrets will be revealed, there will be dissent and mutiny in the ranks and an interloper or two (Blokes in drag) will be discovered.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Dorchester Name Four [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692214</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Cast</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Doris Evening</strong> – (Current) leader of the circle. Direct, blunt and assertive.  Outwardly hates all men and advocates healthy eating but has a secret penchant for iced buns and big butch body-builders. Has had an illicit affair with the lead singer of the rock band ‘The Mingin’ Strawberries’. <br/>
May well require another embarrassing secret. A fling with a rock band singer’s a bit rubbish.</p><p><strong>Shirley Catterwaul</strong> – The circle’s posh voiced deputy leader.  Believes all of her leader’s teachings and speeches. Unaware of Doris’ secret passions. When Doris is ousted she tries to take over the circle.</p><p><strong>Sandy Hamster</strong> – Has recently found out some of Doris’ little secrets and has decided that the group needs new leadership.</p><p><strong>Flavia Undersnitch</strong> – Sandy’s mate and backup. She’s the one that found out some of Doris’ little secrets.</p><p><strong>Bernadette Hogwash</strong> – Member of the circle. Got dragged into it by her friend but can’t really be bothered with the over-political , over-hyped male-bashing so beloved of Doris.</p><p><strong>Tina Stadium</strong> – The friend that dragged Bernadette in. A bit of a new-age feminist hippy.  Blinded by Doris’ feminist rantings. Gets very ‘spiritual’ and pinches the bits from various religions that suit her vision. Sort of a dippy spaced version of Mystic Meg, who probably likes the odd ‘herbal’ roll-up.</p><p><strong>Beatrice Snivell</strong> – Blonde American slightly kooky gold digger with awful New York accent. Recently divorced from her sponging useless layabout husband.  May be after another rich bloke to leech money from.</p><p><strong>Margaret Clove</strong>- the Circle’s wet hen. Generally pushed about and used as a doormat and dogsbody by everyone. She’ll probably snap at some point and they won’t know what hit them .</p><p><strong>Michael Stand</strong> – Member of the Male version of the Maumbury Circle – The Herringston Guild.  <br/>
He’s infiltrated the circle to find out their plans and secrets. Dressed in drag and calling himself Petra Haven.</p><p><strong>Alan Lummox</strong> - Also infiltrating the meeting in drag. Has a recording device in his fake cleavage. Goes by the alias of Gladys Hydrangea. Both of the infiltrators put on weird falsetto Pythonesque voices while they’re in female character.</p><p><strong>Bernie Spleen</strong> – The first bloke Doris picks on. Reads Top Gear magazine, but Doris hasn’t bothered to check her facts.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Maumbury Circle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The actual Script</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Scene</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>A set of seats is arranged in a wide-ish semicircle, the middle one is slightly bigger and a bit throne-like. The chair immediately to its left is lower than the rest, to indicate the position of the second in command/toady.</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>There’s a low table in front of the centre seat.</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>The backdrop is that of a grotty basement type room with a couple of grimy arch-shaped windows high up. There is a large cabinet against the backdrop somewhere to the right. On the inside of the door is a big picture of a bodybuilder.</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>To the left of the cabinet is a tea trolley, with a water urn and a load of mugs. Various tea/coffee pots are there too.</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>A Victorian-style dressing screen is to the right of the cabinet. Flavia is hidden behind it.</strong>
</p>
<p><br/><strong>The Script</strong><br/><strong>Doris walks on from the left. She is carrying some papers. She puts them on her table and seems to arrange them. She looks about furtively, checking that she’s all alone. Doris addresses the audience as if she’s talking to a co-conspiritor.</strong><br/><strong>Doris</strong>: Have you seen anyone else here?  No? Good. That means I’m all alone. I may be leader of a secret society, but they’re a moronic bunch of half-wits and they don’t need to know about this.<br/><strong>She breaks off and sneaks over to the cabinet. She unlocks it and takes out an Eccles cake (or similar). She strokes the picture of the bodybuilder. </strong><br/>Isn’t he absolutely gorgeous? He’s my hunk of the month y’know. That being said, <strong>(She waves the bun)</strong> this is my hunk of the moment. I’ve SO got to stop talking to myself.<br/><strong> She turns to the left and promptly takes a bite out of the bun.</strong></p>
<p>
  <strong>Flavia pokes her head out from behind the screen, mouth agape. She looks at the picture on the door and then back at Doris. Flavia whips out a camera and takes a quick couple of snaps of Doris.  She ducks back quickly as Doris turns around.</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>Doris shuts the cabinet and goes back to the table. She checks everything is in order and talks to the audience again.</strong>
</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> I’ve got to go out and round up some of my little coven.  Back in a tick.</p>
<p>
  <strong>She goes off stage to the left.</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>Flavia comes out from her hidey-hole. </strong>
</p>
<p><strong>Flavia</strong>: Well I’ll be! The conniving little mare. Sandy better hear about this. </p>
<p>
  <strong>She runs off to the left.</strong>
  <br/>
  <strong>A few moments later Doris returns with the Maumbury Circle in tow. They fan out and take their seats. There’s some murmuring and quietish hubbub.</strong>
</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> QUIET!  <strong>(MUMURING SUBSIDES)</strong> That’s better. Welcome everyone to the Maumbury Circle.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley</strong>: The weekly meeting of the Maumbury Circle is now in session!  Right, first things first: Margaret, have you brought the low fat snacks?</p>
<p><strong>Margaret:</strong> Yes Shirley</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> Good, then pass them around dear. <br/><strong>Margaret reaches into her bag and produces a large tub of unidentifiable rice-cake-ish snacks which she passes around No-one is very impressed with them, except Tina who munches hers quite happily.</strong><br/><strong>Shirley:</strong> Good, now we can begin.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Thank you Shirl. Ladies, the first item on the agenda is Bernie Spleen. We all know that as a man, we naturally hate him, but there is more than that to hate him for. Bernie has been on the parish council for two years now, and he has been hiding things from us. I have learned that this...male...has been sending demeaning messages to female MPs on Twitter. Not only that, but he reads “men’s magazines” if you know what I mean.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> What do we intend to do about him?</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> I may be minded to ‘recommend’ that he be removed from his post on the parish council. </p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> Absolutely the best thing to do. Astrologically speaking, the man is a mess and as for his aura, well.....it’s purple. Need I say more?</p>
<p><strong>Shirley: Patronizingly</strong> Absolutely dear. That’s what we all were thinking. <strong>Turns to Doris and mouths “Nuts”. Doris nods</strong>.</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> You can say what you like about him; he’s still a good egg in my book. He mows my lawn every week. Quickly turns to Flavia Not that way before you say it you dirty minded tart. <br/><strong>Flavia looks all innocent</strong></p>
<p><strong>Shirley: (Snootily)</strong> A good egg my dear Sandra wouldn’t carry on in the way he does. He buys a magazine every month. Top something. Top shelf I’m thinking. I’m absolutely sure it’s pornographic.</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> Oh come on Shirley, that means nothing and you know it.<br/> <br/><strong>Doris:</strong> Ladies, please. Let’s not fight. I think we need to relax, so before we carry on with the meeting may I suggest a cup of tea?</p>
<p><strong>Tina: Reaching into her bag and producing a Tupperware container</strong> I’ve got some tofu cakes if anyone wants some. They’re very good for cleansing your chi, and realigning your homeo-psychic pathways.<br/><strong>Everyone looks blank for a moment.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> We’ll think about that dear. <strong>Tina looks mildly annoyed and puts the tub back.</strong> Margaret, can you sort out the tea?</p>
<p><strong>Margaret: Quietly</strong> Yes Shirley. She gets up and goes to make tea</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> While the tea is being prepared, what do we do about Alan Sideboard? He’s painted his cottage in a rather distasteful shade of yellow. </p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong>  There’s an entire condo project near New Jersey that was painted in the same colour. No-one at all bought into it until they repainted it duck-egg blue, so why he’s painted his place like that is beyond me.</p>
<p><strong>Alan:</strong> It’s like that awful modern art thing by Hamian Durst. That giant steel pineapple sits in the middle of Exmoor and ruins the place.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> I’ll take your word for that Gladys. Still, the problem remains; what do we do about him, and what do we do about his cottage?</p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> I could do a tarot reading for him; the spirits of the cards might convince him to change his mind, especially if the ‘death’ card pops up in the right place.</p>
<p><strong>Doris: Genuinely amazed.</strong> That might actually work. Top idea Tina. That’s him dealt with. Next item please.</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> That young fella who lives by the green. Dave..Peters, yeah that’s him. He keeps playing music all day and night. It’s always the same stuff as well. I’d have expected some sort of dancey type music, but this is something about a rabbit. I swear he’s only doing it to annoy me.</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> He IS doing it to annoy you, Bea. He told me himself. He said that if he kept playing a song about women that talk too much, you might just get the hint.</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> Why that grubby little jerk! I’ll get him. I’ll stick some 300 watt speakers by the window and blast his ears off with something loud.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Beatrice my dear. The last thing we want in this peaceful little village is a musical war. The best thing to do is get on to the environmental health people and they’ll help you out. If you’re going to kick his ass, then at least do it quietly. If you do this right you could get him an ASBO or an injunction or something. Shirley, what’s next?</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> The next official subject to tackle is Mrs Bradley. She always closes her curtains, and they’re FAR too patterned for the village; they just look out of place.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> I agree. If she keeps her curtains closed, how can she keep vigilant for burglars and other lower-class types.</p>
<p><strong>Michael:</strong> Absolutely; she should always have a gap so she can peek out at night.</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> But what if people want to peek in?</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Don’t you worry about that Sandy. We’ll keep an eye on things. We’re in the Neighbourhood Watch remember?</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> to Sandy Yeah, they’re watching the neighbourhood with a telescope.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> The next item on the agenda is the Space-TV quiz show ‘6-5-4’. </p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> As TV “entertainment” it is most unsuitable to prime time viewing. That awful host, Red Todgers and his scantily clad sidekick Busty Din get worse every week, and I swear that thing he does with his fingers gets more perverted each time he does it.</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> Y’know I actually met him once. Bernard, my lousy pig of an ex-husband invited several celebs round over the years, and I can say that Red Todgers was the slimiest creep I’ve ever encountered.</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:  </strong>That’s quite a statement considering how slimy Bernard is. <strong>Beatrice considers this and nods.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Michael:</strong> Say what you like about it, it’s still not as bad as ‘Celebrity Dancing Jungle Factor’. That has to be the worst show ever invented, and as for those hosts Moth and Cards, they’re just awful. No personality, just rubbish puns for jokes and bad Scottish accents.</p>
<p><strong>Bernadette:</strong> I’ve heard about them – The accents are just for show: It turns out that they’re really from Devon and they aren’t gay. That’s just another little marketing ploy they use.</p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> And as for the stunts and challenges they do, well, a concussed duck could come up with better. I mean, Dancing in Trees? Eating bugs while jiving? Yesterday they had one guy trying to sing O Sole Mio while standing in a bucket of sheeps pee. Very poor I’d say.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Ladies, please! We’re starting to wander from the core issue of the matter. 6-5-4 is a degrading, demeaning and downright sexist show and it should be taken off air. As we all know, Space TV is owned by the Australian Media Mogul Rupert Beardock, and I will write a strongly worded letter to him asking for that awful show to be axed and its horrid host fired.  Let’s hear no more about it tonight please. Shirley, what’s the next item on the list?</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> The shop in the village is continuing to sell unhealthy foods like crisps and chocolate. They will not listen to reason. I have repeatedly asked them to sell salad instead and they told me to “naff off”, whatever that means.<br/><strong>Alan and Michael giggle at this and get a stern stare from Doris and Shirley.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> And they refuse to stock any healing crystals or Celtic runes or even herbal marijuana marmalade. They just don’t understand modern times I’m afraid.</p>
<p><strong>Margaret:</strong> I went in there yesterday and the girl behind the counter said I was wetter than Manchester in Winter.</p>
<p>
  <strong>A general pause from everyone until Doris speaks up.</strong>
</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> <strong>Speaks quickly as if to get the subject dealt with fast.</strong> The cheek of the woman. If it’s that young Erin Whatshername, she should know better. <strong>Normally/slightly relieved</strong> What should we do about them?</p>
<p><strong>Alan:</strong> There’s not a lot we CAN do about them. That Michael Stand that runs it is a very strong minded person and consequently he’s quite hard to deal with.</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> We could simply hire someone to go round there and kick his ass, but I don’t think the cops’d like that much.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Very true, besides, I don’t like to encourage violence. I shall go round there personally tomorrow and have a word with him. I’m sure he’ll listen to reason eventually.  Now, do we have any other business?</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> Yeah, we sure do honey: I’ve heard we aren’t the only secret society in the village! There’s another group that meet in secret. I don’t know much but they’re called the Herringstalk or something. <strong>Alan and Michael are getting a bit nervous and shift uncomfortably.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> This is disturbing news Beatrice. How did you hear of them?</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> You know Albert Pempslider who lives at the end of Pimhole Lane? I overheard him talking to that dim-witted friend of his..what’s his name?...Hugh?..That’s it, Hugh yesterday. They were saying something about a meeting at the end of next week. I couldn’t hear much as there was a lot of traffic about.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> We have to do something about them, but I don’t know what. It requires careful consideration. Nothing we can do now, except possibly bug Hugh and Albert’s houses. </p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> I shall ask about in the village. Maybe someone else has information, we shall see.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Anyway, there’s nothing we can do now. Is there any other business before we call it a night?</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> There IS other village news I think we should bring up</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> I have evidence that one of our villagers is not really one of us. There’s a prominent figure in the village council who is hiding a little secret or two.</p>
<p>
  <strong>A few intakes of breath from the crowd, one or two murmurings of “outrage” or Cheating git” or similar.</strong>
</p>
<p><strong>Alan:</strong> This is good! We like a bit of intrigue don’t we Petra?  Spill it then, who’s the lying git?</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> I bet it’s that no-good old goat Herbert Simpkins. He’s always seemed like a dodgy character to me. He had the temerity to call me a nosy old bat last week, just because I had a quick peek through his bedroom window.  What sort of person is that to have around?</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> Strangely, the person I’m on about isn’t him. It’s not Gertrude BigM’lons either. She may be a mad old loon with a beard but she’s not all bad. No, the secretive villager is much closer to home than that.</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> C’mon Sandy. Tell us! Who is this big-shot villager?</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> Points at their leader. Doris. That’s who.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Absolutely shocked What? Well I Never! How dare you make such baseless accustations? </p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> Baseless? I think not my dear. You sit here each week telling us how some person or other in the village has slighted you or has done some petty thing and you try to get them kicked out of town, when usually it’s you who’s wronged them. Earlier you said Herbert Simpkins had called you a nosy old bat and how evil he was for saying that, but you were looking through his bedroom window Doris. You ARE a nosy old bat. Knowing you, you were probably taking photographs as well.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Less of the ‘old’ please. So what if I was being nosy?  Someone has to stand up for decency in this place.</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> And that that beacon of moral standing is you is it? It’s not just extreme nosiness you’re guilty of is it though? </p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> I sure I don’t know what you mean.</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> We have evidence of your little addictions Doris. </p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> Several of us have keys to this little room, but only you have the key to the cabinet behind us. Isn’t that true Ms Evening?</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> That may well be true, but what of it? There’s nothing in that cabinet. Nothing at all. Nothing that would interest you at any rate.</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> Prove it Doris. I think Sandy and Flavia are on to something here. You’ve been reeeeal quick to point the finger at almost everyone in the village, almost as if you’re trying to distract everyone while you have something to hide.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> I have nothing to hide Beatrice, I can assure you, and as for you two Sandy and Flavia, I hereby cast you out of the society. You are not of us.</p>
<p><strong>Bernadette:</strong> And to think I thought this was a depressing waste of time, now it gets interesting.</p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> I thought you enjoyed being in the Circle.</p>
<p><strong>Bernadette:</strong> Nah, I only joined because you wanted me to, but I was going to give it up as it’s all a load of petty minded tinkering in minor local affairs and carping about rubbish TV shows. </p>
<p><strong>Sandy</strong>: Sorry Doris, I ain’t going nowhere yet. Who else wants to know what she’s got in there? Not gonna show us Doris? <br/><strong>Doris folds her arms in defiance of Sandy.</strong><br/>Well if she’s not going to tell us, we’ll show you all some pictures of our beloved leader. <strong>She and Flavia hand some Polaroids about.</strong> See the person in the middle stuffing her face?</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice: Looking at one of the pictures</strong> Gollllly! Doris you sneaky mare! Who’s the muscle man in the poster?</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> That’s Hank ‘Abs’ Leadman, oiled-up hunk and all-round himbo.</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> See? All that ‘Men are to be ignored’ stuff and ‘eat salad’ gumpf that our Doris spouts is just so much hot air. She doesn’t believe a word of it herself. This is just a control exercise for her.</p>
<p><strong>Doris: Stands up and takes on an even larger air of defiance.</strong> All right! I admit it! I love pies, cakes, chocolate....and big butch blokes with very little on.  There – I said it! Are you happy now? Have you had enough of my soul on a plate? Do you want me to beg for forgiveness? Because That’s one thing that isn’t going to happen because I AM STONG and I will not bow down to pathetic little chowder heads like all of you! I run this society! ME! I own the lot of you and there’s nothing you can do about it!</p>
<p><strong>Sandy: (Calmly)</strong> Doris, Doris, Doris, you lying hypocritical bitch. You don’t own us now do you? How much credibility do you think you have left, hmmm? About as much as a game show host I’d say: Possibly less.  I think your reign is over and that you’d best leave while you’ve still got a shred of dignity left.</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> This is mutiny Sandra Hamster, you vile wretch of a woman. Who’ll run my guild now eh? That wet hippy new-age sap Tina? HA! And as for Shirley, forget it: She’s wetter than that useless tart Margaret. <strong>Throws a ball of paper at Margaret.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Margaret: Jumps to her feet and has a full-on screaming fit at Doris.</strong> Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! How dare you treat us like this you lying cow! You keep on about how rubbish men are and how we should all eat salad, and now this? I believed in all your preaching and your prattling on, I listened to you spout on about how we should be in control of our lives and how we are so much better than men, and you’ve been stuffing your fat face with buns and chasing after muscled blokes in oil and leather!  This is all one big power trip for you isn’t it, you two faced pillock? You’ve pushed me around and used me as a doormat with never a please or a thank you! Well NO MORE!  <strong>Sits back down and speaks much more quietly</strong> Sorry about that girls. I feel better now.</p>
<p><strong>Sandy: temporarily stunned. Recovers fairly quickly.</strong> Thank you Margaret for that. Is there anything else you’ve not told us Doris?</p>
<p><strong>Doris: Shocked from Margaret’s outburst.</strong>  Well, nothing I can think of. </p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong>  How about the fact that you’re not really called Doris. Would you like to tell us all who you really are?</p>
<p><strong>Bernadette:</strong> You mean she’s been lying about her name all along?</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> Not just her name Bernie, but Lying about her entire identity.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> I don’t quite believe what I’m hearing! I mean, this is Doris Evening, upstanding member of our community and the village’s official Margaret Thatcher impersonator.</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> Believe it Shirl. Our Doris here isn’t Doris at all. Out with it dear leader, what’s your real name?<br/> <br/><strong>Doris:</strong> <strong> Quietly</strong> Candice. Candice Whipple.</p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> Isn’t that the name of that ex Page 3 model who vanished a few years ago?</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> You mean Doris is really Candy “The Goddess” Whipple?</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Still quietly Yes, that’s me.</p>
<p><strong>Bernadette:</strong> How the hell did you find that out?</p>
<p><strong>Flavia: Reaches in her bag and pulls out a photocopied newspaper article.</strong> It’s this that clued us in. I found it a few weeks ago as I was tidying the loft. This old bit of newspaper was wrapped around some old china and the picture of Candy caught my eye. </p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> She showed me what she’d found because she recognised the face for some reason but couldn’t place it. It took the picture of Doris in the Parish magazine for it to finally click.</p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> What happened to you Doris, or should I say Candy? Why did you vanish like that all those years ago? Was it your spirit guide telling you to get away from the vain, sexist world of the big city?</p>
<p><strong>Doris: Recovering a little but still massively deflated from Margaret’s verbal attack.</strong> Something like that maybe. It’s a long and drawn out story. Let’s say I was getting fed up with the press on at me left right and centre, various pervy celebs all trying it on and trying to get hold of me in one way or another. You remember the media attention I had from my relationship with the singer Andre Peters? Well, after that went sour my ‘agent’ got me to do a porn film. Naturally the papers went into overdrive and I just had to escape, so I ran. I cut and dyed my hair, took to wearing glasses, ditched the makeup and dressed like..like this.  I did a vanishing act and moved here, waited for the papers to get bored and quietly sold off the flat in London.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> So why the Maumbury Circle? Why start all of this?</p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> To get as far away from Candy as I could I think. Candy was an airhead and an attention junkie, so Doris Evening had to be completely different.</p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> I’m still a little lost: are you Doris or are you Candy? </p>
<p><strong>Doris:</strong> Right now I have no idea, but whichever person I am can’t have anything to do with this society anymore. I’ve blown that completely. I’m going home, and then..who knows. Maybe Florida or Hawaii. I’m thinking that Candy should remain vanished, but I need time to go and reflect on things now. I think you can say goodbye to Doris Evening for good now. Maybe a more grown up Candice will come back to the village, but for now......I’ll see you all again. Maybe.  <strong>She stands up, adjusts her clothing and leaves.</strong></p>
<p>
  <strong>Everyone sits in silence for a moment.</strong>
</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> Well, this IS a fine to-do isn’t it? I suppose that makes me leader then.</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> No it doesn’t. We have to elect a new leader: you can’t assume power just like that.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> I was the deputy leader, and now that Doris is gone that puts me in charge.</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> No it bloody doesn’t missy. It has to be a group decision, not a solo flight.</p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> This is all very bad for your karma you know. I could light some incense to help us calm down.</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> Not now Tina. <strong>Tina looks annoyed and affronted.</strong> I say we vote on leader. As Doris’ right-hand snob, you ain’t got a chance love.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> You think so? You and miss underhand there are fine ones for sneaking about taking pictures of people behind their backs. Trust you? I don’t think so.</p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> But you make it your duty to look down on everyone you meet.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> That’s only because you’re all such common oiks. <strong>A pause to reflect.</strong> Oh bugger; I shouldn’t have said that.</p>
<p><strong>Michael: As himself,</strong>  <strong>Leaps to his feet and takes his wig off.</strong> HA! I’m from the Herringston Guild and we’re onto you Maumbury lot. Not that we need worry though as you couldn’t run a secret society if your lives depended on it. You couldn’t run a whelk stall for that matter. All this infighting for nothing!</p>
<p><strong>Alan: As Himself, Stands up, whips his wig off and chucks it at Shirley</strong> What’s more, we’ve been disguised as two old bats for months on end, painstakingly infiltrated your little gang., gone to the trouble of recording all of this only to discover that The Maumbury Circle is a small-minded, petty waste of time.  </p>
<p><strong>Beatrice:</strong> Don’t I recognise you?</p>
<p><strong>Alan:  </strong>You should do Ms Snivel. I’m the man who arrested your ex-husband all those minutes ago.  After this day’s trial, I wish I’d arrested this entire village too. Sod this for a lark; I’m off to the pub! <strong>Walks off</strong></p>
<p><strong>Michael:</strong> Y’know that’s the best idea I’ve heard all evening. This isn’t worth the bother. <strong>Follows Alan </strong></p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> Blimey! That was different.</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> Very different. I hope they don’t go to the pub dressed like that.  It’ll freak the landlord out no end.<br/> <br/><strong>Shirley:</strong> Well, we may be down 3 members, two of which were men in dresses but never mind. </p>
<p><strong>Bernadette:</strong> Why does this have to carry on at all? In this form at least? Why on earth go skulking about and meddling with sod-all in a small village? When Tina asked me to join this group, she said it would be fun. Sorry Tine, but it was a load of codswallop right from the start.</p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> I’m sorry I dragged you into things. I thought it would be good to socialise and to control the town with a secretive iron rune.</p>
<p><strong>Bernadette:</strong> No worries Tine. It was a good idea I suppose, just...well no it wasn’t, but the thought was there. </p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> What do you mean “Why?” Someone has to control this village.</p>
<p><strong>Bernadette:</strong> No they don’t. Someone has to run the village, and that’s the parish and village council’s job.  All we do here is deal with the extremely petty grievances that we have. It’s not even for the good of the village as a whole. It’s for our, well mostly your ego. That and general nosiness.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> Are you suggesting this is all just an opportunity for me to be nosy? That is a slander and a downright lie I’ll have you know. I just want to help the people of our little village out and keep them safe. If I have to know what they get up to in private and peek through their curtains to do it then I shall and if that’s your definition of nosiness......oh hang on, it is isn’t it? You‘re right, It is being nosy.</p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> That’s why you bought that telescope. It was nothing to do with the alignment of the stars at all: it was to look into my living room!</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> And everyone else’s houses too don’t forget. My cottage is in a nicely prominent place and I can keep an eye on the whole village.</p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> I think I’m going to set up a camera pointed straight at your house Shirl. If I catch you spying on me ever again, you’ll be eating that thing.</p>
<p><strong>Bernadette: Stands up</strong> Well, this has been fun ladies; well no it hasn’t but never mind. Those two drag artists had the right idea. I’m off to the pub. Knickers to this. <strong>She walks off.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Margaret: Stands up.</strong> While you lot have been waffling on, I’ve thought about it carefully and Bernie’s right. This has been no fun at all. I need a change in my life and I’m starting with a drink. See you silly old moos later. Careful where you point that telescope now, Shirley. <strong> She follows Bernadette.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Sandy:</strong> See that Shirl? Your shenanigans have driven most of the group off. </p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> MY shenanigans? It was you and your pet monkey that caused this rift!</p>
<p><strong>Beatrice: Annoyed</strong> Sandy and Shirley will you two shut up? You’re as bad as each other! This society is a dead duck if you hadn’t noticed. All this fighting for power is pointless. The Maumbury Circle is over. Bernadette and Margaret were right to walk off. This secret society crap is a waste of time. I’ve got better things to do, such as find another rich man to marry. I’m out of here. <strong>She gets up and walks off.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Tina:</strong> Well, this has been an eye opening experience. I would put a curse on you Shirley, but you’ve already done it yourself by the looks of things. I need a smoke, and I’m not talking about tobacco. <strong>Grabs her bag and goes</strong></p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> Looks like it’s us and you Shirley. This is going to be looks at the empty chairs; completely pointless. Looks like the girls were right. This Maumbury thing is completely dead. </p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> I hate to admit it, but you’re right the Maumbury Circle is no more.  </p>
<p>
  <strong>Sandra gets up and goes over to Doris’ seat and spots the key to the cupboard on the ground</strong>
</p>
<p><strong>Sandra:</strong> She dropped her key the daft mare. </p>
<p><strong>Flavia:</strong> Let’s get a bun.</p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> You can’t do that. Not without me anyway. <strong>They open the cupboard and take a cake each. Shirley strokes the poster of the hunk. </strong>I'd like to nibble him.</p>
<p><strong>Sandra:</strong> <strong>With a giggle</strong> You and me both. Cheers girls. C’mon Flav. Let’s follow on to the pub. <strong>They walk off.</strong></p>
<p><strong>Shirley:</strong> Well, what a fine mess this has been.  You start up a society so you can snoop on your neighbours and all manner of silly things happen. The leader turns out to be an ex-stripper and as for the rest, well they all walk out on you. Oh well, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I’m up for a sherry. Poodle Tip everyone. <br/><strong>She follows everyone else.</strong></p>
<p>
  <strong>The End</strong>
</p>
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